


Reprimand

by severinne



Series: The Wind and Its Satellite [14]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Discipline, Dubious Consent, M/M, Power Play, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-06
Updated: 2009-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-15 01:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy finally faces the consequences of sneaking Kirk on board the Enterprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reprimand

‘Done.’ McCoy snapped his tricorder shut. ‘Just keep up with your meds and strengthening exercises and I shouldn’t have to darken your doorway ever again.’

‘Don’t sound too disappointed now, Doctor.’

McCoy heard the dry amusement in his patient’s voice but refused to look up, kept his eyes narrowed on packing away his instruments. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, it’s a damn miracle that you’re walking again after the nerve damage from that blasted slug. You should be thankful to be seeing the last of me.’ McCoy snapped his case shut, and frowned for a moment. ‘Sir,’ he added briskly. Better.

‘And I am grateful,’ Pike replied wryly, still sounding too amused for McCoy’s taste. ‘Thank you.’

Good manners made him look upward for the thank you, if nothing else. ‘Just doing my job,’ he muttered, uncomfortable with the way Pike held that eye contact far too intently. McCoy cleared his throat and looked away, taking in the private living quarters that he’d been struggling to ignore. He loathed the idea of making house calls: homes were bloody unpredictable places and Admiral Pike’s new suite bore all the signs of an incomplete move, hints of future indulgences: Starfleet-issue furnishings mingled with antique pieces, including the well-worn leather wingback Pike was presently seated in that reminded McCoy, with a pang of bitter resentment, of a similar chair passed down from his father, now lost to the ex-wife along with every other goddamn thing in their - _his_ \- family farmhouse. He longed for his medical bay, well away from the non-clinical, incongruous things in this room, from that leather chair to the short coil of rope dropped carelessly over a side table bearing Pike’s half-drunk bottles and a scattering of polished glasses, minus the one Pike was currently using for his Saurian brandy. He watched one of Pike’s fingers trace around the rim of his glass, and angrily blinked the sight away.

‘You shouldn’t be drinking this soon after that last dose,’ McCoy pointed out, reverting to his familiar authority to cover any uneasiness. ‘And you can button up your shirt now,’ he added, cringing inwardly as soon as the words came out because he had been deliberately _not_ looking at the way Pike’s loose linen shirt was hanging open like an bloody invitation.

Pike tilted his head to the side, but otherwise didn’t move. If anything, the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth sharpened that much more.

‘Guess I’ll just leave you to it, then.’ His Georgian drawl was coming out stronger than usual as he hoisted the strap of his medical bag over his shoulder. Definitely time to move along. ‘You’re due for another hypo at 1700. Try to stay somewhat sober until then.’

He made for the door with long strides but only managed to get halfway there before Pike’s voice, suddenly cold, brought him to a shuddering halt.

‘You haven’t been dismissed, Cadet.’

Biting back a curse, McCoy clenched his jaw and spun on his heel, squaring his shoulders at precise attention. His level gaze, however, was aimed clear over Pike’s chair and out the panoramic windows overlooking the Bay. The endless sunlight was nearly blinding.

‘Permission to take my leave, Sir.’ He ground his teeth. His dorm room at the Academy didn’t even have a window.

‘Permission denied.’

Big fucking surprise.

‘Drop the bag,’ Pike ordered, only slightly softer than before, ‘and come stand where you were.’

Heart pounding with anger or something else, McCoy carefully lowered his medical kit to the floor and walked slowly forward, refusing to stop until he was precisely where he had stood before. Only this felt nothing like before - without any clear purpose he felt naked, and suddenly the strange, sprawling space of Pike’s half-furnished living room seemed downright claustrophobic.

‘We never did have that talk you had coming on the Enterprise,’ Pike said quietly, as though that statement alone explained this. Brow furrowing with uncertainty, McCoy parted his lips, hesitated before daring to speak.

‘Sir?’ That seemed the least dangerous response. And something about this felt every bit as perilous as riding an unbroken stallion through a lightning storm.

‘You smuggled a grounded cadet onto my ship. During a state of emergency no less.’ Pike let the fact hang in the air, leaving time enough for indignation to uncoil hot in McCoy’s belly, then quirked his lips slightly. ‘You’d hoped I’d forgotten.’

‘That damned parasite knocked out your mobility, not your memory.’ McCoy resisted rolling his eyes, but only just. ‘But given Jim Kirk’s admirable performance during a crisis situation, and oh, I don’t know, him _saving your hide_ from Nero, I’d have thought Starfleet Command would see-’

‘Would see what, exactly?’ Pike pushed off his armrests to his feet, and McCoy noted the slight tremble of ill-accustomed exertion in his thighs, also noted how damn quickly the moment passed before he was steadily closing the space between them. ‘You don’t expect me or anyone at Starfleet Command to believe you had the ship’s best interests, or _my_ best interests in mind when you brought Kirk on board _my_ ship under _my_ nose?’

He wasn’t quite yelling, but the low roar to his voice made the muscles in McCoy’s back tighten defensively. ‘Never said I spared a single thought for you or Starfleet at the time,’ he returned sharply. Whatever lecture the Admiral had in mind, McCoy expected that remark would speed it along the inevitable yet pointless slap on the wrist, but Pike merely smirked, eyes glinting like a man with a secret.

‘Of course you didn’t.’ Pike’s gaze tracked down, then up as he sidled around McCoy’s unmoving body. ‘It was all about Kirk, wasn’t it?’ The accusation purred from somewhere behind his right shoulder. ‘All about your _friend_.’

‘Yeah. It was,’ McCoy said impatiently, defiantly. ‘And you should be damn grateful, too.’

Blunt pain exploded at the backs of his knees, dropping McCoy to the floor before his brain could catch up with the idea that Pike had actually _kicked_ him but then the heel of a heavy boot struck between the shoulder blades and a musty Persian rug smacked up into his face and there was no doubt in McCoy’s mind that Pike was batshit insane. He felt Pike’s body straddling the small of his back and growled, thrashing to throw the other man off.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you crazy-’ A hand grabbed him by the hair, slammed the side of his head once, twice, _fuck_ , into the floor again. White, blind disorientation like San Francisco sunlight exploded in his skull, a snarl that sounded something like _Insubordinate little shit_ scraped at his ear and by the time he dazedly blinked back to awareness he was greeted by a straining pull of pain in his shoulders, the bite of ropes binding his wrists behind his back. Panic cut through his confusion, made McCoy twist and tug at his hands until Pike gave the ends of the ropes a sharp final yank, killing his struggles dead.

‘Don’t bother fighting.’ Pike’s other hand snagged his hair again and snapped his head up, demanding his attention. ‘Starfleet command candidates put in hours of knot-tying practice in survival classes while your kind are twiddling your thumbs in xenobiology seminars.’

‘I don’t fucking believe this,’ McCoy snarled. ‘Thought Jim was joking about taking Bondage 101, the smarmy little brat.’

‘Maybe you should listen to your captain once in a while, son, you might actually learn something.’ Hands groped over his body, tearing at the fastenings of his red cadet’s uniform and forcing him to turn over in the narrow space permitted by Pike’s straddling legs. His pants and underwear were tugged unceremoniously down to his knees; the rush of cool air and warm fingers against his exposed skin shocked McCoy out of his struggles, eyes growing wide in disbelief. He offered little resistance when Pike flipped him onto his back and tore at the high collar of his tunic, managing only a choked sort of gasp to protest the ruthless tugging and angry snarling sound of cloth tearing apart. The feral anticipation in Pike’s face as he stripped his torso bare made the breath catch in McCoy’s throat as he recognized that dark determination in his eyes, something that McCoy had noticed in his former captain after his rescue from the Nerada. That vengeful glint had faded in the weeks since, but seeing it now only served to remind McCoy, with a stab of nervousness, that Pike had _changed_ since that incident.

Pike didn’t notice his concern, or more likely didn’t care, was too busy staring at McCoy’s traitorous erection with a smugness that made him flush with shame. He bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to look down and see just how hard he was getting from Pike’s abuse of rank, trying to find words like _No_ and _Stop_ but then the weight pinning his body to the floor was gone. Hesitantly, McCoy cracked an eye open in time to see Pike settle back into his chair, shifting comfortably with a slight creak of leather.

Squirming uneasily, McCoy flinched from Pike’s quietly amused smile upon him and curled over onto his side, struggling to conceal his arousal from Pike’s gaze, to alleviate the pressure on his bound hands. He breathed hard through his smoldering humiliation, trying to comprehend what was happening here.

‘You look good like that, laying at my feet,’ Pike observed wryly. ‘Staying down like a good pet... you’re learning to obey already.’

Anger spiked hard through his shame. He forced himself to sit upright, grunting with exertion and snapping his head around to glare at the Admiral, only to stall at the sight of Pike calmly stroking his long, thoroughly exposed cock. His fingers tumbled familiarly over the slick head and McCoy’s eyebrows shot upward as realization smacked him in the face. ‘Now hold on...’

Pike grabbed him by the hair again, dragging him in between his spread legs. ‘You want me to stop?’ he murmured, mockingly but with an edge of seriousness. ‘Go on then, say it.’ He lifted his hand away from his cock and smoothed his fingertips, damp with his own pre-come, over McCoy’s hesitant lips, rubbing as intimately as a kiss. ‘Tell me to stop... _beg_ me to let you go...’

Biting back a moan, McCoy jerked his head to the side and glared at the rug beneath his tangled, half-clad body. His tongue darted out to taste Pike’s arousal on his lips, and he knew he was well and truly fucked. ‘Just get on with it, then,’ he spat bitterly, and never got the chance to close his lips once Pike pulled at his hair again and forced his mouth down onto his cock.

With his hands tightly bound, McCoy couldn’t control the pace at which Pike fucked his mouth, using his grip on his hair to make his head bob up and down in a relentless rhythm. It was all he could do to keep his throat open, keep his lips slack and just let himself be used, which suited Pike just fine judging by the soft groans pouring over him.

‘Oh, yeah... yeah, take it, just like that...’ A stray thumb pressed a bruise into his aching jaw, a thick finger pushed past his lips alongside his cock, prising his mouth wider. ‘Bet Kirk loves using this bitchy mouth of yours... bet you let him fuck your face any time he wants-’

Pike’s muttered filth halted on a sharp yell of pain and a hard shove at McCoy’s head, pushing him away with a murderous glare. Coughing, McCoy still managed an unsteady sneer at the seething man, a flash of the teeth he had snapped sharp around Pike’s sensitive flesh. ‘Fuck you,’ he rasped, and cried out hoarsely at the answering backhand that landed across his face. Pike surged to his feet and shoved his face down into the seat of his abandoned chair, the leather still warm beneath his stinging cheek.

‘Mouthy, arrogant little _slut_.’ An open palm struck his exposed ass, swiftly followed by several more blows until McCoy was writhing, burying his face into the leather chair to muffle his moans. He could hear a rapid, unmistakably fleshy sound thrumming beneath the higher pitch of the spanking, Pike hissing something incomprehensibly dirty, and McCoy’s neck flushed shamefully hot at Pike’s deep, faltering groan, the hot splash of semen splattering over his ass. Pike was already rubbing the sticky mess into his skin, deepening his abject humiliation and increasingly painful arousal.

‘What’s wrong, hoping I was gonna fuck you?’ McCoy shuddered at the deliberate touch of two fingers dragging through the spunk dripping over his ass and pressing up between his buttocks. The fingers stabbed into him with little more warning than that, and McCoy cried out incoherently, wordlessly begging with a backward tilt of his hips, taking him deeper. Pike’s body curved over him, covering him while his fingers fucked into him for a long, taunting stretch before slipping out of his ass and delivering another stinging slap.

‘Not your captain anymore, bitch.’ McCoy whined breathlessly into the sweat-sticky leather when Pike’s hand curled around his cock, pulling along his hard length with brutal, efficient strokes. ‘If anyone’s gonna give you the reaming you so sorely deserve, it’ll be Kirk.’

‘ _Fuck..._ ’ McCoy groaned, thrusting mindlessly through Pike’s rough fingers.

‘Think I’ll order you to report to him right after I’m done with you,’ Pike muttered harshly. ‘Report to your captain with your pants around your ankles, your hands still bound....’

He whimpered into the leather chair, writhing helplessly. Pike growled warningly back, pinned him down with a hand clamped at the nape of his neck, fisted him faster.

‘Let him see my come all over your ass... let him feel how I stretched you open for him... his perfect, dirty little bitch...’

Orgasm reduced him to nothing but his cock pulsing wet from Pike’s hand, a mindless babble that sounded something like _Jim, Jim, fuck yes Jim_ tumbling off his lips. Pike chuckled into his ear, gave his spasming cock one last, cruel twist then yanked him back from the chair, forcing his head further down to where his release marred the dark leather.

‘Clean it up,’ Pike ordered huskily, and McCoy bent his head to obey, nimbly licking away his own come and positively _purring_ at the thought of perhaps, one day, doing this to the captain’s chair on the Enterprise. Steady fingers were combing approvingly through his sweat-drenched hair, gliding down his neck, shoulder, arm, to the ropes knotted around his wrists. ‘You alright?’

A disbelieving huff of a laugh escaped McCoy’s panting mouth. ‘Damn it, Chris,’ he gasped, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘Yeah... yeah, fine, just...’ He jerked at his bound hands, releasing a relieved sigh when Pike took the hint and began to pluck at his knots.

‘That night I met him in that dive of a bar, once I figured out who he was,’ Pike said conversationally, gently unwinding the loosened ropes from his wrists, ‘I told Jim that he was just like his father.’ The pads of his thumbs caressed the rope burns on McCoy’s wrists before Pike guided him into a more comfortable seated position on the floor beside him. ‘But the first time I clapped eyes on him, he reminded me of you.’

McCoy glanced up from his aching wrists, eyebrow arched.

‘Only difference was, he needed half a dozen of my recruits to beat himself up. You were doing the job just fine on your own.’ Pike handed over a glass of his Saurian brandy; it almost felt like a joke. He lifted the glass in a sardonic toast before draining it dry under Pike’s thoughtful gaze.

‘Yeah, well, I’m pretty self-sufficient that way.’ McCoy waved his glass for a refill, quietly pleased that Pike complied with no comment other than a slight narrowing of his eyes.

‘Maybe so,’ he conceded, topping up his own glass before resting the bottle between his knees. ‘But Jim isn’t.’

McCoy hesitated, glass raised partway to his bruised mouth.

‘He needs you out there.’ Pike’s voice dropped to a serious hush. ‘He wants you as his CMO but he won’t be able to keep you if you don’t learn to toe the line instead of kicking it down whenever you decide you know better than the rest of the damned universe.’ He shook his head and took a sip of his brandy. ‘I promised Starfleet Command that I’d handle your insubordination personally, make sure you understand the rules before disembarking, but pull a stunt like that again and it’ll be out of my hands.’

‘That would be a shame,’ McCoy drawled meaningfully. He knocked his second drink cleanly back.

‘Agreed.’ Pike watched with heated interest as McCoy flexed his hips upward to pull his rumpled pants back over his abused rear. ‘Just... take care of that kid. And stay out of trouble.’

McCoy chuckled under his breath as he regained his feet and rezipped his tunic over his roughly-used body. ‘I will if he does,’ he promised dryly.

Pike shook his head. ‘Difficult bastard.’

He deferred with a nod, but didn’t bother waiting to be dismissed.


End file.
